Trapping the Devil
by Tsukiori
Summary: The vitae gets put to good use. PWP and my apologies.


Daniel shuddered as fingers slid down his bare back. Alexander made a small, questioning growl. He only shook his head. No, nothing. He turned his head, looking through brown hair to watch long, elegant fingers dip into a jar of white liquid. The vitae always looked so pretty in the eternal night of the Transept, bathing everything around it in a soft white glow-so pure looking. If only he didn't know where it came from, what uses it would be put to.

Alexander's chest-he could almost count each rib bone in it by feel-pressed against his back. The arms that encircled him were anything but feeble, the strength in them never ceased to surprise him, restraining prisoners in their struggles and death throes with ease, holding him down each night though his struggles were mere tokens…usually.

His breath caught as Alexander brushed against his nipple, trailed down, spiraled back up, writing words and symbols from some forgotten language on Daniel's skin with the essence of the man they had just…

He couldn't restrain the gasp, the automatic flinch away, but Alexander just pressed more firmly against him. He could feel the tendons standing out in the arm around his waist, like iron. Forcing himself to relax, he let his head lean back against the shoulder behind him. Alexander tilted his head enough so Daniel could feel his smile press against his cheek.

The work resumed, down his chest, his hips, his inner thighs, he bucked as Alexander's hand closed around him-half-hard since having Alexander watch him undress- and pulled. The chuckle vibrated through him from behind, his hair brushed aside so lips could press against his ear, "Done."

Trying not to whimper in disappointment, Daniel crawled out of Alexander's lap. "Tonight, what does the ritual-"

Alexander got gracefully to his feet and began to walk the circle, stooping down to retrace a symbol with vitae though they all looked perfect to Daniel's untrained eye. When he didn't answer, Daniel assumed it would be the same as usual. He crawled until he was about in the center of the circle. He laid down, the stones chilling his back, their roughness biting at his unprotected skin. Alexander rose from where he had been crouching-fussing over some arcane something-or-other-and stared down at Daniel. The frown made Daniel flinch. Suddenly embarrassed, he started to rise. Alexander shook his head, "Surely you know what the ritual calls for by now."

Daniel flushed. He nodded, laid back down, and shyly spread his legs. His hands went to automatically cover himself, but he halted them, rested them on his stomach instead. "Daniel, your hair."

Quickly he raised his head enough to arrange his hair so it was a dark spill around either side of his head. He kept his hand where it fell, resting on the floor by his face. He didn't know why Alexander arranged him so every night, but it was much like the symbols and words the older man wrote and spoke, Daniel had ceased wondering because he knew that an answer would never be forthcoming.

"Am I ready?"

"Almost. Open your eyes. Look at me."

Daniel slowly complied. Meeting the baron's eyes was always jarring, their golden hue-too bright, too intense at normal times- at night, during their rituals, were searing whenever they met Daniel's. He moaned.

An emotion too quick to catch passed over Alexander's features. He raised his hands and began to chant. Daniel tried to catch the words, to analyze them, but they passed like liquid silver through his mind, making him shiver. The wards on the floor began to glow, a deep blue, a color Daniel had begun to acquaint with safety.

Alexander's voice rose on the final word, it slipped from his lips and was swallowed by the darkness. The light of the circle illuminated nothing but themselves.

"Daniel." Said with almost the same reverence that he had used to cast his spells. The baron seemed to be hesitating on the edge of the circle, what for Daniel couldn't possibly guess…Oh. The other little part of the ritual. Their ritual. Daniel spread his legs further until they ached, a silent invitation to the man. He refused to remember old tales about monsters not able to gain entrance into dwellings without invitations, he refused.

Alexander sighed and a tension seemed to leave his frame. The red robes slid off his shoulders and fell to the ground. It was Daniel's turn to stare. Age had marked the graceful body, made it leaner almost to the point of emaciated, had turned the skin translucent as paper, doing an ill job of hiding the bones beneath. But then there was the silver hair falling like water down those still broad shoulders, that face that had seen so much and proudly proclaimed it with nobility, and those eyes that seemed to devour his soul… He was glad that he had met the baron when he was old. If they had met with equal years between them Daniel was sure he would have been burned alive from the beauty of the man, age had dulled it, made it touchable, made it into something that could be Daniel's even if just for a brief time.

He stretched out his arms to the man, and with a small, almost thankful growl, the baron was in them, in him, and they began the ritual in earnest. Sometimes Daniel hoped that the Shadow would never cease to hound them, so they could keep doing this for forever and ever and ever. Sometimes he couldn't help but feel that Alexander felt the same.


End file.
